


Turmoil

by journeycat



Category: PIERCE Tamora - Works, Tortall - Tamora Pierce
Genre: Age Difference, Angst, F/M, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-10
Updated: 2015-09-10
Packaged: 2018-04-20 03:57:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4772627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/journeycat/pseuds/journeycat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lindhall Reed questions his morals.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Turmoil

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for Secrets and Lies Week at Goldenlake in January of 2010.

_What would Arram think if he knew?_

Lindhall felt a pang, a deep rotting guilt deep inside and he almost faltered. But then her lips sought and found his, young and warm and sweet, and he could not resist the lure of her taste. _He’d be appalled_ , he thought achingly, but it did not stop his hands from roaming her body and exploring every curve. _Really, though, it’s not so different from Daine, is it?_

That was wishful thinking, and he knew it. Lindhall was much older than Numair and she still young into her twenties. What kind of morals did he have, that he would risk pain of death in Carthak for fugitives and yet have no inhibitions when it came to flesh of the body?

She gasped against his mouth as his hands slid under her shirt and shoved her breast band up. She was striped with scars, testament to her valor and adventurous spirit. She had always been unremarkable to him and had flitted in and out of his periphery barely noticed, unGifted and unscholarly. He did not lack in women, and they had always been his age. He could not explain how one day he noticed the shadow cast by her long curling lashes, or the specks of bright green in her eyes, or the curve of her full mouth.

Strange, to think it had somehow led to this. He bore her against the desk, feeling hard bunching muscles beneath his hands. She was stronger than him, taller and broader than him, but very much a woman. 

Where did his morals go, to abandon him to sully the virtue of someone like her? He had always considered himself a good man, genuinely caring for those fugitives he helped leave Carthak, but perhaps he had only been lying to himself.

“Lindhall,” she whispered.

His name on her lips was a lusty song in his ears. _Ah, Keladry_ , he thought regretfully, _look at what you’ve done to me_. 

Perhaps the lie was that he never had any morals at all.


End file.
